


Please

by The_Hearts_And_Daggers



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Bruce is In Control, Cuddling, Desperation, Dirty Talk, Dominant Bruce, Held Down, M/M, Mentions of oral sex and handjobs, Mild Painplay, Oh look this fic is more than twice as long as the other two I've posted on here combined, Orgasm Delay/Denial, POV Tony Stark, Pepper is not physically present, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Sex while Standing Up, She is contacted via phone near the end of the fic though so I added her to the characters, These tags are crazy I'm sorry, This is fairly unrealistic but they're superheroes so that's my excuse, Well technically held up but same difference, and by dirty I mean filthy this is Tony we're telling about here, if you're looking for a lot of plot you should look elsewhere, seriously, slight D/s, slight hair pulling, slight nipple play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 08:22:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11413974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Hearts_And_Daggers/pseuds/The_Hearts_And_Daggers
Summary: Bruce has really gotten the hang of the whole control thing...





	Please

"Mm—guh!" is all Tony can manage as Bruce fucks into him from behind. There's an arm around his waist that's holding him in place and a hand just barely teasing his nipples because Bruce is a fucking bastard when he wants to be and right now he apparently _really_ wants to be. Tony wants to tell him to get on with it already, but Bruce is an asshole and he's making sure to pound into his prostate with every perfect thrust and so Tony has long since lost anything even vaguely resembling coherency, meaning that all he can do is hold onto Bruce's hair and be taken along for the ride.

He would've been happy to hold onto something else (like a wall or a table or a headboard), because he knows that Bruce likes to pretend that he doesn't like having his hair pulled. Unfortunately, though, there's nothing of the sort for him to hold onto; Bruce, the bastard, decided to take him _while standing in the middle of the fucking bedroom_ where they're just far enough away from all furniture and architecture that they can't _quite_ reach anything. With nothing but Bruce to lean on, Tony had been sure, at first (it felt like _days_ ago, now; how long had they been at this?), that they were going to fall over, especially when the first brush of Bruce's fingers against his prostate had turned his legs to jelly and he'd had to completely abandon the idea of supporting his own weight.

But Bruce, fucking _Bruce_ , is having no trouble keeping them both upright. He's in complete control, always in control, pounding into Tony's ass and holding him up and staying on his own feet without so much as _trembling_ , like he can keep this up for hours if he wants, and he probably could, the fucker, but Tony can't, he really fucking _can't_ , and the cock in his ass is great, it's fucking wonderful, but it's not _enough_ , and Bruce fucking knows it. He needs to come, and he needs to do it _now_ , or he's going to die or pass out or explode or something else, he's not exactly sure what, but he knows it won't be good.

So Tony tries to beg, he really fucking does, but every time he opens his mouth to do it, Bruce notices and gives his prostate a particularly savage nudge and all he can manage is a garble of sounds that he is quite aware don't really sound anything like actual words.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that? Couldn't quite make it out," Bruce says into his ear after his most recent attempt at communication, and he sounds so fucking _calm_ that Tony can't resist the urge to yank a little on the hair in his hands just to get some kind of _reaction_.

It earns him a gasp, which isn't much, he knows, but it feels like a major fucking accomplishment at this point, especially when Bruce gives the nipple he'd been teasing a rough twist in punishment. Tony moans raggedly and jerks forward just a little bit.

He feels far less accomplished, though, when Bruce subsequently abandons his nipples altogether and uses his now free hand to gently (but firmly, oh so firmly) tug first Tony's left arm and then his right until his hands were no longer in his hair, somehow managing to gather both of Tony's wrists together and then just _holding_ them about nine inches in front of his body where he can't reach anything or do anything. He doesn't even bother trying to get free, because he knows that he can't; even if he hadn't been distracted by the cock in his ass, Bruce's grip is always unbreakable.

"You know better," he mutters, and this time his voice is ever-so-slightly different from before, a little bit deeper and a little more monstrous and _fuck_ if that isn't the hottest thing Tony has ever heard. "Use your words."

With what feels like a monumental effort, Tony finally, _finally_ manages to grunt out something that sounds vaguely like the word "Please."

"Please what, Tony? You'll have to be more specific," Bruce growls, and then he sucks on Tony's earlobe and grazes it with his teeth and he isn't playing fucking _fair_!

"Plea—tuh—ungh!" he tries, but that really is the best he can do with Bruce's perfect cock perfectly aimed to hit that perfect spot with each rough and perfect thrust and Tony nearly sobs with the frustration of it all.

Finally, _finally, FINALLY_ the bastard takes pity on him. Or maybe he's just getting impatient himself; it's really hard to tell at this point.

"Do you want me to touch you, Tony?" Bruce asks, voice still as calm and steady and controlled as ever, but still showing that hint of that barely-concealed monster that lurks beneath the surface.

Tony makes a sound that is embarrassingly close to a whine and nods.

"Fine," Bruce says. Then his voice drops to little more than a very commanding whisper and he adds, "But don't you _dare_ come yet."

And then Bruce drops his wrists in favour of his cock and between that and the unerring assault on his prostate, Tony _knows_ he's fucking lost.

Still, he tries to be good. He really, truly does. But he was already desperate, had been for fucking _ages_ , and so it takes barely a minute for Bruce's expert manipulation of his body to get him right to the edge of orgasm, and there's absolutely no fucking way he can hold on for much longer.

Right as he decides _fuck it_ and starts to let himself fall over that sweet, sweet edge, Bruce, the fucking _bastard_ stills his thrusts and drops his hand away from his cock and suddenly that release is out of his reach.

This time, Tony _does_ sob, and the sudden lack of stimulation plus the jolt of disappointment and absolute fucking need bring back his ability to talk all at once.

"Please, please, Bruce, let me come," he babbles, his voice desperate and rough and breathy and _wrecked_. "Please, Bruce. I'm—I'm sorry I pulled your hair and I'm sorry I almost came without permission, I'm so sorry please Bruce I'm so close I can fucking taste it _please_ …"

Bruce just laughs softly and resumes his thrusts, a little more gently, a little _too_ gently, only hitting his prostate a third of the time, and Tony's so fucking _close_ , still, but it's just not quite enough and Tony wants to cry. His hands are gripping the arm around his waist so tightly that he's probably leaving bruises, but he won't, _can't_ ease up because if he lets go his hands will end up on his cock and he'll jerk himself to completion and he knows from experience that that won't end well but he's so fucking _close_ …

"Come on, Bruce, _please_ ," he begs. "I know—I know you're not there yet, you're too good at this for that, but if you let me come now, I'll make it so good for you, I swear. Let me come and then you can fuck me as hard and rough as you want and I won't complain, not even once, not even if I'm too sensitive, not even if it _hurts_. _Please_ , Bruce. Let me come, give me that, and then you can be done giving, and once you're done giving you get to _take_."

Bruce's movements don't falter in the least, he has far too much control for that, but the quiet, deep, and almost feral grunt he makes sounds like victory, and now that Tony's started talking, he can't possibly stop.

"Or maybe you'd like it more if I used my hands to get you off," he says. "Most people'd see that as a step down, but not you. You'd get to relax a little and stop having to worry about me so much. It'd feel so good to lie back and let me take care of you, for once, wouldn't it, Bruce? And I know, I _know_ how much you love my hands. I catch you staring at them when we're in the lab, all the time, looking like you want me to stop putting things together so I can take you apart. Did you even know that you do that?"

This time his words are rewarded by three rough, powerful, perfect thrusts right against his prostate, and for a moment Tony thinks he's won, but then Bruce backs off again and says, "Of course I know I do it. I didn't know that you'd noticed."

"Just let me come, and I'll do it, Bruce. I'll take you apart piece by piece, just like one of my machines and it'll be so good for you, Bruce, _please_ , you're so good and I'm so close and it _hurts_ Bruce _please_!"

"Soon, Tony," he promises, but Tony knows that 'soon' could mean another twenty minutes of this torture and no matter how exquisite this particular torment is, he can't, just _can't_ …

"My mouth, then," he offers quickly. "If you let me come, I'll suck you off. I know you're close too, Bruce, I can feel it in your arms and hear it in your voice and I know you won't take long if I can get you into my mouth because I _know_ exactly how you like it. Just let me come and then you can fuck my throat quick and dirty and I'll swallow you down to the root and—"

"Stop talking," Bruce growls, practically _grumbles_ , and if Tony didn't know better, he would be afraid that he's starting to lose control. But he does know better; he knew that Bruce never, ever lost control, not anymore.

He took it.

"Make me."

Bruce's next thrust is rough and brutal and perfect, and, yeah, that's one way to do it. And then there are fingers squeezing one of his nipples and lips brushing against the side of his neck and, oh yes, this is good, this is _great_.

"Gladly," Bruce says against his skin, and he can feel the rumble of that voice. "Can you come untouched, do you think?"

Tony shakes his head with a whimper, an actual _whimper_ , but he can't bring himself to be ashamed, not when Bruce's hand is suddenly back on his cock giving it _one, two, three, four, five_ amazing strokes and then he's spilling himself all over his stomach and Bruce's hand, shouting as he comes so hard that his vision goes white and for a second he's thinks he's going to pass out from the sheer ecstasy of it all.

But he doesn't lose consciousness, not completely, and as he's coming back to himself he hears Bruce groan low in his throat and feels the cock in his ass (and the hands on his torso, although that's far less relevant) grow just a little bit bigger as his hips slow and then stutter to a halt.

They stand there for a moment, catching their breath before Bruce turns his head so he can mutter against Tony's neck, "If I let go of you, are you going to fall on your face?"

"Uh…I don't think so? No promises, though," he says as he tries to remember how to move his fingers.

When he finally succeeds in letting go of Bruce's arm, Bruce frees his waist, and Tony manages to stumble the three or four steps it takes to reach his bed. Bruce takes care of the condom and flops down beside him a moment later.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Tony snorts.

"Only in the kinky, wonderful, I'm-gonna-feel-that-in-the-morning-and-it's-gonna-be-fucking- _awesome_ way," he says. "And speaking of the morning, you should totally stay up here tonight."

Bruce hesitates for just a moment.

"Come on, Bruce, please?" Tony quickly continues. "I'm feeling the rare urge to cuddle, and anyway, I seem to recall making several very sexy promises to you in the heat of the moment and I will happily come through on one or more of those if and when the opportunity next arises. I always keep my sexy promises."

After several more long moments of hesitation, Bruce finally asks, "Are you sure Pepper would be okay with it?"

"That's what you're worried about?" Tony asks, rolling his eyes. "JARVIS, is it currently daytime in whatever country Pepper is in?"

' _Switzerland, Sir. And, yes, it is._ '

"Call her."

It's just a few moments later that Pepper's voice issues from the speakers.

" _Tony, I'm between meetings right now and I don't have time for a transatlantic booty call._ "

"I miss you too, Pep. So nice to hear your voice. This isn't a booty call."

" _What did you blow up this time?_ " she asks with such resignation that that Bruce has to muffle a laugh in one of Tony's pillows.

"Nothing! You have such a low opinion of me, you're lucky I love you."

" _Tony, it's 3:23 AM in New York. You only ever call me this late if you want sex or there's been an explosion. Which is it?_ "

"Neither. The sex has already been taken care of, and while the resulting orgasm _was_ mind-blowing, I kind of doubt that's the kind of explosion you were talking about. It is what I'm calling about, though. Sort of. Well, not really."

" _Is Bruce still there?_ " she asks.

"Hi, Pepper," Bruce mutters sheepishly.

" _Hi,_ " she replies with a mostly-stifled giggle " _So, Tony, why are you on the phone with me instead of basking in the afterglow?_ "

"Well, as I just said, Bruce and I just had sex. Wonderful sex, incredible sex, the kind of sex most people probably don't think exists outside of porn and romance novels—"

" _Tony, get to the point, I don't have all day,_ " Pepper urges, but she sounds fond.

"…but afterward, when I asked him to stay for some very necessary post-coital cuddling and maybe a round two either later tonight or tomorrow morning, he got all stuttery and hesitant and worried that he was pushing some kind of boundary by staying overnight."

" _Oh._ "

"Yeah, so, if you could reassure him that you won't be angry so he can stop worrying and start cuddling, I would very much appreciate it."

Bruce groans and presses his face into the pillow again; his ears are the color of tomatoes.

" _Bruce, when I gave you permission to sleep with my boyfriend, actual sleeping was included,_ " she says. " _If you want to stay in the penthouse tonight, or almost any other night, I don't have a problem with it. But it is sweet that you actually thought about how I might feel about it._ "

"Thank you," Bruce says, voice muffled by the pillow.

This time Pepper laughs outright before saying, " _You're welcome. And, just a fair warning, Tony snores. Loudly._ "

" _I_ snore?" Tony says indignantly. " _You_ sound like a freight train, and the first time _he_ fell asleep in the lab, I thought there was a big, green intruder!"

" _I have to go,_ " Pepper says, and Tony can hear her rolling her eyes. " _You two enjoy yourselves and try not to break the bed this time._ "


End file.
